Group ~ Civilian/Vigilante/Loner - he could be any/all of these, really

Appearance ~The street vigilante known to many scum and criminals all over New York as Casey Jones boasts a very particular and somewhat bizarre appearance. When battling crime, Casey gears up from head-to-toe and transforms into a battle-ready protector who watches too much sports. First, there's the mask. It's a solid white goalie mask with some small scuffs and discoloration, giving it a weathered look. It is designed to be more reminiscent of a skull than a plain old hockey mask. He wears one hockey pad across his right shoulder while the left holds the weight of his gym bag full of sports equipment strapped across his chest. Elbow pads, knee pads, a pair of cropped fingerless gloves, acid wash blue jeans, a muscle shirt and a pair of weathered hiking boots complete his ensemble. He has no special logo or insignia but many know him for the striking hockey mask he wears, especially at night.

It should also be noted that despite his outlandish appearance, the NYPD have never caught him or even spotted him. This could be due to his incredible stealth but it's up in the air on why they have never actually captured or apprehended Casey.

Casually, Casey Jones looks just like any other normal human being wandering the city streets. His hair is long, stringy and often greasy-looking. It hangs down to his shoulder blades and is of a dark brown hue, as are his eyes. Sometimes he will rock a shorter style. Depends on his mood. His face is gruff and displays a week's worth of stubble. His left ear is pierced and boasts a sterling silver cross dangling from his lobe. When not in full vigilante mode he will often dress down and be more comfortable; for example wearing a tank top or a ratty old tee with a pair of sweats and some old sneakers. Just for the sake of being lazy. Casey does like his hoodies and will often bundle up in one whenever it's cold out. Though, he doesn't mind the leather jacket every now and then.

Casey Jones is a Caucasian male and his body type is athletic, allowing him to perform his crime-fighting routine with ease. Casey is in very good shape and never hesitates to show it off in a shallow attempt to stroke his own ego once in a while. He stands at six-feet-two and weighs approximately two-hundred and thirty pounds. Casey is muscular in physique, being an ex-hockey player, and certainly knows his way around the gym. But really he just comes off like a 'workout freak' trying out for Guns 'n' Roses.

Personality ~As a personal taste, Casey Jones loves to listen to Heavy Metal music and some Rock. he is very much into the whole metal scene and could tell you various tidbits about certain bands, their members, who replaced who and in what band, and even at what time. So in a way he does have his geek outs. It's not a side very many people get to see of Casey but when the topic is brought up he doesn't hesitate to join in and give his two cents. He has the tees, he has the patches on some of his hoodies, he has the CDs and even some old vinyl LPs in his collection. If you want to get on Casey's good side it would be wise to start off the discussion with metal music. Bring up Rap, Country or Pop and he'll swing a bat at your head.

Training is key. Though Casey Jones is no martial artist by any means he does have several books teaching the subject. Whether or not it helps is up for debate but Casey relies on them since he never had the gall to join a Karate school or some kind of camp; neither did he care about doing so. Growing up in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn, however, one does need to know self-defense in order to survive. Casey maintains a very intense workout regime that includes self-defense training and basically teaching himself certain holds, arm locks and disarming techniques. He's no Bruce Lee, but again who is? He mostly relies on his sports weaponry, like bats and hockey sticks, to do the work for him. But he does love to hone his fighting skills.

However, do not mistake Casey for just a brute. He has been known to work on cars, usually fixing them like brand new and he is a resident handyman at the apartment where he stays. So Casey is far from a neanderthal despite conflicting reports. He can handle a toolbox just fine and whenever the guys, or even April, need help with plumbing or their vehicles he will often join Donnie in fixing them right up.

Not much of a lover, certainly more of a fighter, Casey is hopeless when it comes to romance. He doesn't even have to go out of his way to say the wrong thing or to offend someone. He does that naturally. Often perceived by the female variety as pig-headed and stubborn, Casey Jones can be very chauvinistic and very outspoken for his gender as a whole. Sometimes when he talks he doesn't really think before speaking and his chauvinistic way of thinking can trigger heated debates with the wrong crowd. In a world where everything is 'politically correct' Casey Jones is 'politically incorrect' and proud of it. He can be hard-headed and quick-tempered but deep down he is a very helpful individual who would give the shirt off his back.

When it comes to battling the criminal underworld, no-one gets more thrills out of beating the pulp out of scum than Casey Jones! He thrives for it. Having grown up watching the Filthy Harry movies he has developed a very anti-heroic personality trait to where Casey believes dishing out the harshest beatings to purse-snatchers and muggers is true justice. The boys in blue would argue this and try to throw the book at him. But he is very determined, boasts a never-give-up attitude and refuses to back down from even the worst criminals the city has to offer. His mortal enemies are the Purple Dragons, more specifically Hun and Dragongface. Casey has made it a personal quest for revenge against Hunter Mason and only time will tell if he can make it out of his most grueling fight against the big gorilla.

April O'Neil is another story. She is the one person who can actually calm Casey down whenever Hun and his goons try to foul his life up even further. She consoles him and the two are certainly no strangers to something even remotely reminiscent of a romantic relationship. However, Casey has commitment issues and has yet to finalize anything with her. He loves April to death and wouldn't think twice about giving his life for her... But something deep down also restrains him, warning him that his being closer with her would only endanger her life. Then again, his ego often gets in the way of common sense and he flaunts himself at her. Never missing a wink, an arrogant smirk or just quipping back-and-forth with April and the guys. They are close but deep within he feels a particular fondness toward April, unlike any he's ever felt before.

History ~Arnold Bernid Jones, Jr. was brought into this world by Arnold Jones, Sr. and his wife Elizabeth Jones. Arnold Sr. worked many different positions throughout his time and was a very caring, hard-working and loving father. Elizabeth was a stay-at-home wife and this became especially so once their son was born. At age five, Arnold Jr. had already displayed his pension for smashing things when he took a plastic mallet and attempted to smash the cylindrical peg into the star-shaped hole of his toy playset. Arnold Sr. didn't have very much free-time to spend with his son but always tried to help his son understand values and morals that would set him up for the world ahead. He was big into sports, especially Football. In the 4th grade, Arnold Jr. was signed up for Pee Wee Football in order to get him outdoors and to socialize more openly with others.

It was acknowledged early on that Arnold Jr. was not a team player. Despite his many attempts, the others would always rag on him for his small stature and inability to take a real hit from the bigger kids. That was when he was kicked off the team for taking his cleat shoe and smacking it across another kid's face, leaving him bruised and marked. School was not easy for young Arnold as he was considered the poor little kid whose parents couldn't even afford a newspaper. It was bad times. To ease his stress he began listening to harder rock music, some heavy metal, thanks to Mtv; when it played actual music. He was introduced to a whole new culture and adopted it as his own, specifically as he got older. In 7th grade he had made a friend who also loved the culture and was a fan of Hockey. His name was Steven, dubbed 'Stevie'. He introduced Arnold to the sport one night and was instantly hooked.

Meanwhile, Arnold Sr. found himself in hot water with a local street gang who were pushing small business for protection money. One of the older delinquents was a thug named Hunter Mason, 'Hun' for short. The Reed Hook section was not one of the better areas of New York and was notorious for housing several criminals and juvenile delinquents, muggings almost every night. But Arnold Sr. was stern and respectfully told them he had no intention of paying them what he couldn't afford. Hun and his gang were not pleased with that response and left the older man with an ultimatum: pay up by night's end or suffer the consequences.

Arnold Jr. and Stevie fell in with a group of local teenagers who were also into the sport and began involving himself in their games. It was nothing serious, just street hockey. But Arnold felt like he was a part of something now. Little did he know the older kids were nothing but bullies to the others. They were cool with Casey because Stevie did their homework and thus Stevie was considered a 'friend'. Both were aware of what was going on and Arnold had some pretty harsh words for the other kids in private. Stevie agreed but refused to leave their side. They didn't punish him like they did the others. During a street game, Casey Jones was ran right over by one of the kids who began to gloat about scoring over the 'wimp'. Having recalled Hockey fights before Arnold ran up to the kid, pulled his jersey over his head to obscure his sight and began pummeling him. He later realized Stevie told them what he had said the other night which put him in hot water with the others.

It was a rough game through and through due to their deliberate attacks against him, hitting harder than usual. It all made sense once the secret was revealed. Stevie betrayed their friendship to the older kids because he was slowly becoming one of them. Casey spent several weeks and an entire semester trying to talk him out of being seen with the bullies but Stevie refused to listen. One day, Arnold sat in class for its entirety and not once did Stevie show up to class that day. He never missed class. The intercom announced before school let out that they had lost Stevie and that his body had been found behind a noodle shop, disfigured and badly beaten. It didn't take Arnold long to make the connection but he overheard the bullies saying that the previous night had been a bust and that they had no choice but to leave Stevie behind. He stole one of their hockey sticks and attacked each and every one of them in a blind rage. He was suspended for an indefinite time.

Arnold Sr. was very disappointed but he sympathized with his son. They had met Stevie before his untimely death but were concerned for their son and what his mind set had become. Elizabeth remained frightened, especially with the knowledge that Hun was pushing them for protection money. Young Arnold was left with two options: stay at home and honor his punishment or sneak out. He chose the latter. After watching an ice hockey game, Arnold decided to slip out of his window and he paid a visit to the local ice hockey rink. The janitor was still there but they were closed until morning. He snuck inside and tried on a pair of ice hockey skates, grabbed some gear and began practicing. He needed to think. Through all of it, Casey couldn't erase the fact that he couldn't save Stevie. It weighed heavily on him because he tried to hard to save his friend from the punkers... But he failed.

in 11th grade, Arnold Jr. was a renowned ice hockey player for the local arena. He played for their high school, Roosevelt High. He was their most aggressive player and won over the coach who enjoyed his style but others affiliated with the sport criticized his sportsmanship. Their big game was set to be against Troma High. That night, Arnold began prepping for the big game while his parents stayed back to do file some paperwork at the shop. It was late at night and in Red Hook no-one looked out for anybody. Hun and his goons attacked the store and confronted Arnold Sr. about paying their fee. When he refused a second time, Hun had enough. He ordered his thugs to destroy the place and to leave them with a reminder of who ran the city. Arnold Sr. fought them off best he could, just as Arnold Jr. had for the big game. But his father lost his fight. Hun made his wife watch as they killed Arnold Sr. right before her very eyes and then set the place on fire as they left.

Earning the name 'Space-Case' for his outlandish behavior on the ice, Arnold 'Casey' Jones won the final goal for Roosevelt High and earned the school a trophy for the very first time. The shop exploded due to the mix of gasoline and fire and Arnold Sr. and his wife were murdered by Hunter Mason and the Purple Dragons. Chief Sterns paid the arena a visit and informed the coach of what happened. Arnold was pulled aside and broke down once he heard the news. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't breathe. His biggest night, the one he would remember for the rest of his life, had instantly became his most loathsome in a blink. His world was shattered.

Hockey was his only friend now. Due to his performance against Troma he was offered a full scholarship to play professionally for the New York Rangers after he graduated. Arnold decided to try out and earned the gig. However, he was deemed too unpredictable and spent a lot of time in the penalty box for fighting with opposing teams and showing off for the fanbase he earned due to his roughness. Arnold even had a devoted female fanbase who always sat in the front row just to see him smash some poor loser into the barricade without remorse. He played with them for less than a year due to sustaining a severe injury to his left knee. During a season game another player wanted that trophy a little more and decided to 'slash' Arnold's leg in order to cripple him and earn the goal. The injury required surgery and some time healing but was told he could never play professionally again.

But he made enough money to find himself an apartment. After healing, he took up a part-time job working for a local nightclub as a bouncer. Arnold became good friends with Torchy, the owner of the club, and was sometimes given free drinks and a meal for his hard work. Being a rough ex-hockey player, Arnold Jones was notorious for using his strength and rough behavior to toss alcoholics out on their backsides. He even broke up a blatant drug deal one night and earned himself a gash across his side. But work was slow. It didn't happen often enough. Laid up and depressed, Arnold watched a Filthy Harry movie marathon one night on TVT and quickly became motivated. He was sick and tired of the 'hoods running his 'hood. He had to do something about it, plus he wanted revenge against Hun. It motivated him to commit to a very rigorous workout regime and he reshaped his body, gained thirty pounds of muscle and built up his stamina even further.

He started to pick up books from the library on martial arts and how to perform several techniques for self-defense. Though he was a brawler he wanted to increase his fighting skills and gain some extra training. Calling himself 'Casey' Jones, he gathered his old hockey gear and old sports weapons and headed out to face the underworld of New York; starting with Red Hook, Brooklyn. Casey found a couple of punks stealing a car radio and confronted them. One was armed and fired off rounds but the vigilante proved adaptable to his environment and disarmed the thug with a swift whack to the wrist via baseball bat. The strike broke the man's wrist and he screamed out in pain, where as Casey enjoyed the sound. The other attempted to run but found his leg snapped when the vigilante tripped him and smashed his knee with the bat, threatening him with death. That was step one.

He engaged in other vigilante activities and started pocketing their money in order to sustain himself since he didn't do any official work. He did work as a repairman at his apartment complex but that was peanuts compared to this. Casey Jones eventually ran into a mutant turtle named Raphael while disarming and viciously beating a gang of purse-snatchers. The anthropomorphic turtle found himself incapacitated when confronting the vigilante but the two soon met again under different circumstances and had to work as allies against the Purple Dragons, led by Dragonface. The two became fast friends and loved to work out and punch the bag. Casey was one of the very, very few who looked past the fact that his friend was a giant turtle. He became friends with the Hamato family as well, even looking at Splinter as a surrogate father-figure to replace the loss of his own. Casey also met April O'Neil, another friend of the turtles', and eventually began dating her. The two remain close, he remains best friends with the turtles and aids them in their fight against the Foot Clan.

Other ~Headcanons;• Casey isn't a master martial artist but is good enough to where he could potentially land a hit on Shredder• Is too afraid to commit to April O'Neil but still hangs with and dates her• Has a strong dislike for suits, such as tuxedos• Has a pierced ear• Considers Hockey the only sport that matters, besides Pro Wrestling• Both parents were killed by Hun's attack on Arnold Sr's store• Is an ex-pro Hockey player instead of minor league

Sample RP ~ They were scared. Their fragile bones were becoming stiff with fear, their expressions frozen in shock. They hadn't expected... him. Their female victim lay defeated and humiliated on the cold hard pavement as their sneakers echoed through the alleyway in hurried movement. But he was hot on their trail. They thought they could outrun him? "Losers!", their predatory adversary proclaimed loudly into the night. He was using every inch of the rooftops, the power lines and the fire escapes to maneuver through this concrete jungle and keep up with his prey.

"Hurry, guys! Through here!", one of them commanded as the rest followed through a gaping space that had been cut through the wiry fencing. His eyes narrowed as he clutched the hockey stick with both hands and used a nearby power line to 'slide' across the alley, landing roughly on the adjacent rooftop some several feet away. He hurried his own pace in an attempt to keep up with his victims. The grey sleeveless hoodie that blew behind him in high-velocity was held mostly in place thanks to the strap of his golf bag. But behind his weathered hockey mask, Casey snarled.

Below, the thugs had thought they had hit home when they began sprinting out of a nearby alley and onto a main street. It was crowded. Then again, it was New York... Wasn't it always? Kneeling, Casey Jones observed from across the street on an entirely different building as his little victims decided to mentally huddle and agreed on their next act: to get off the streets.

They thought they had won.

They thought they were out free.

After what they did, violently attacking a local NYU graduate and taking her belongings, Casey felt these clowns should have known better. "That was genius, bro!", one of the Purple Dragons excitedly acknowledged. They entered the local nightclub owned by a real scumbag piece-of-trash known simply as 'Vic'. He had no problem hiding out thugs and criminals so long as he was protected in return. After all, a fat little weasel like Victor couldn't protect himself from others' wrath. Casey stealthily made his way across to the other building via the landscape provided. He loved this stuff. "This place don't look half bad after th' monsters attacked..."

"Monsters... Idiot. It wasn't monsters, that's kid stuff! How old're you anyway? Twelve? Thirteen? You even hit puberty yet, Kai?", the others ribbed. All in good fun, of course. Truth be told, the TCRI outbreak certainly made its impact on the city. It did cause a lot of destruction for a lot of buildings in the area, areas of business being the most depressing. But somehow Vic was able to clean it up and it was likely he had some 'outside help' in order to afford such a revamp.

They ordered drinks and picked out their own very special corner in the back of the club while loud techno music was booming from inside. Outside, it sounded like water-trapped sounds wishing to escape its confines. People began entering through the front door while the vigilante took a different route. The punks spilled out some of the belongings they were able to make off with and reminisced on their attack earlier that night. But above them, watching from the industrial rafters, was Casey Jones. He was in his familiar crouched position and glared down at them with bat-in-hand.

One of the thugs began snorting his narcotic substance and threw his head back. Very quickly, his eyes skimmed across the shadowy figure that had been chasing them only moments ago. He put his arm out and confusedly and wailed "Holy-! It's him!", but before they could get up from their personal booth he had already leaped down and slowly arose to meet their gaze with his own. His long, scraggly, dark brown locks were spread across the front of his mask as he jerked his head to get them out of his eyes and chuckled menacingly. "Well, well, well! Whadda we have here? A couple a' no-good scumbags countin' their loot! Well, yours truly has a problem with that!", Casey addressed fearlessly.

The thugs looked at one another, switched to each other again, and then glanced back over at the oddly-dressed vigilante. One of them began to chuckle as Casey lifted an eyebrow in surprise. To be honest, he was a little confused by this. "Oh? An' what're you gonna do about it? Yer just another costumed clown thinkin' you can change th' world with yer fists! Ya shouldn't bring guts to a gunfight, ya idiot!", they all laughed in amusement.

The place was so loud and busy that no one had yet noticed what was going on in the back of the club. Not yet. Casey had a solid black puck in the palm of his other hand and began mocking them as he aimed his pistol at him. Casey lowered his head, rolling his finger around near his head to signify his own decreasing mental health and began laughing. "Ya got me there! I'm not armed enough for you guys, that's true. But don't think I didn't come prepared. You boys're special! Well, ta me anyway! Time ta make a resolution, boys! Here comes an idea now!", the vigilante challenged them with sarcasm as he tossed the puck into the air. The punks were so confused that they just had to see where this was going; their mistake.

Casey lifted the wooden bat and, though it was silly to think of, he smacked the puck with the thick end of the bat and watched as it soared into the punk's mouth. He was coughing up teeth for sure. The gun dropped under the table and they began to fumble for it. The techno beat kicked up and the neon lights began to flicker through the darkened arena as Casey Jones soon found himself being surrounded by several Foot soldiers masquerading as civilians. True civilians were there but the Foot ninja had already been tipped off somehow. They circled around the masked vigilante and folded their arms with their heads cocked at the side.

"Hey, c'mon fellas! Can't we, uhh, be fair about this? After all, I was just doin' a good deed. I was just-", but then the woman from before who had been attacked revealed herself. She was wearing the Dragon doji upon her brow with a wicked grin. Casey couldn't believe it. With widened eyes, he tilted his head with his mouth agape. Now that was unexpected. "Oh man...", Casey hung his head as they began to laugh at his situation. What a predicament. This... Was going to hurt. A lot.